


Solace

by glow_worm



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Comfort/Angst, Everyone's hurting, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Girls Being Girls, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pain, Survivor Guilt, Whump, here have a nice soft scene of lucretia and lup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22439272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glow_worm/pseuds/glow_worm
Summary: After a fatal mission, the IPRE family is down to four; Lucretia helps Lup, Magnus feels guilty, and Davenport's just trying to get everyone through this.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> Really wanted to explore Lucretia and Lup's relationship! And give Capn'port some much needed development! And make everyone suffer while doing so :)  
> (This is Cycle 31, the year that Merle Parlayed as soon as the cycle reset)

Magnus carried an unconscious Lup into the common area of the Starblaster. Lucretia limped in behind them, haggard and bloodied.

Taako and Barry were both gone. Merle too. They stupidly had him do Parlay at the beginning of the cycle, even though he had just been killed by John for the first time at the end of the previous year. This cycle was incredibly taxing without their cleric. Only Magnus, Davenport, Lup, and Lucretia were left.

Lup was completely drenched in blood—some hers, most not. The same went for Lucretia and Magnus.

Davenport bolted up from his chair, shocked.

“What the hell happened?” He panicked.

“Later, Dav,” Magnus murmured, sounding defeated. “Help her. Please.”

Davenport scurried to a cabinet in the kitchen as Magnus looked around, dazed. His body trembled with anxiety; Lucretia motioned for him to lay Lup down on a couch but he refused. He felt like he had to hold on.

“Where’s Barry?” Davenport asked as he ran back towards the group with an armful of three potions.

Lucretia shook her head mournfully and took a bottle from Davenport with shaky hands.

“Gone,” she said, her voice hollow.

“Shit,” he cursed.

She uncorked the glass bottle, struggling at first to get a grip on it, and stumbled closer to Magnus who still held their friend cradled in his arms. Lucretia lifted up the potion to Lup and gently poured it betwixt her lips.

The three stood with baited breath, waiting for the potion to take effect. Some of Lup’s larger wounds began to shrink slightly, her eyes fluttered half-open and she began to stir.

“Lup?” Magnus spoke with a mix of relief and dread—grateful to see her improve but knowing she would quickly realize that Barry was dead.

Her voice was almost inaudible; she was still weak and only barely conscious.

“Magnus...?” She whispered. “How did...we’re back on...”

Davenport pressed another potion into Lucretia’s hand. Lucretia had been completely dissociated, and the cool glass against her skin helped to ground her.

They knew at this point that death was meaningless for them. Their friends would come back. But it was a difficult cycle. And even if their family always came back, they still felt pain. They still suffered, physically and emotionally. They avoided death as much as they could.

“Give her another one,” Davenport spoke in muted tones. “She’s gonna need it.”

Lucretia nodded and took the second bottle from her captain, raising it again to Lup’s lips.

“Here, Lup,” Lucretia murmured. “Drink this.”

Lup’s injuries gradually closed a little more. She closed her eyes briefly, and pressed a palm to her face as she breathed. They gave her a minute.

“I—I’m okay,” she said, finally. Her voice still sounded frail. “Thanks. You can put me down, Magnus.”

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“Y-yeah,” Lup responded. “I’ll be fine.”

He gently set her down, but kept an arm weaved around her back to support her as she stood. She faltered slightly, but Magnus braced to keep her up.

“Here,” Davenport said, offering her the third potion.

“I’m alright,” Lup declined, holding her head. “I just...need to trance.”

“Lucretia? Magnus?” Davenport offered, raising the potion. “You’re in bad shape too.”

“No,” Lucretia answered, low.

“Save it,” Magnus said. “We’re down to four, we’ll need all the potions we can get.”

Davenport hesitated, then reluctantly lowered the vial.

Lup pulled her hand from her head and examined it. It was slick with blood, but she did not have a head wound. The blood was not her own.

“C-come with me, Lup,” Lucretia breathed. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and...I’ll dress your wounds.”

Magnus traded Lup to Lucretia, who moved towards the washroom with Lup’s arm draped over her shoulders, supporting her weight. As she walked, she favored her left leg.

“You’re limping, Lucretia,” Davenport addressed, concerned. “We have potions. I really think you need one.”

“I’m alright, Captain.”

“Okay, well, if you change your mind...” He trailed off.

When they got to the washroom, Lucretia looked back and forth with uncertainty between the walk-in shower and the sink. The sink would be less messy, perhaps, but the shower would be easier.

She guided Lup into the shower, and Lup slid her back down the tile until she was seated with her knees against her chest. The walk over seemed to drain her more, and she rested her head on her knees.

Lucretia looked on sympathetically. Lup’s hair was so sodden with blood that it was impossible to tell she was blonde. Lucretia reached for the small supply of bandages and ointments they kept in the cabinet, then made her way back to her friend and reached for the shower head.

Lup was only semi-conscious—she was functioning but her mind was not quite there, her body not quite doing what she wanted. Lucretia had learned over the decades caught in these vicious cycles that consciousness in damage was tricky for her elven friends, who did not sleep. As being unconscious did not come naturally for them, they fought for coherence even when it would be easier to just be out.

It was hard to watch.

Lucretia turned on the water and made sure it was pleasantly warm, then knelt down and tugged gently at Lup’s arm, which earlier had a large gash down the length but now was about half as small.

Still Lucretia sprayed the blood and dirt away, pushing up the torn fabric of Lup’s sleeve.

She placed the shower head down on the tile for a few moments with the water still running as she reached for a vial of ointment and a spool of gauze.

“This will sting,” Lucretia warned.

Lup winced as Lucretia rubbed in the ointment.

“Sorry,” Lucretia muttered.

Lup lifted her head, and tried to push a lock of hair away from her face—but when she felt a slick substance she instead reached for more of her hair and brought it around into her field of vision.

Red.

“Lup—” Lucretia began, but she cut herself off as Lup reached past her to grab the shower head.

She picked it up and held it shakily over her head, beginning to rinse the blood out of her hair.

“Lup,” Lucretia repeated, startled. “Your clothes—you’ll get soaked.”

“If I leave it, it’ll get matted and gross,” Lup grumbled slowly from behind her knees. “It’ll never come out.”

Lucretia opened her mouth to remind Lup that she could have easily cleaned her hair with prestidigitation, but thought better of it.

“Here,” Lucretia spoke with care, reclaiming the shower head. “Let me.”

Lucretia stood up, which took more effort than she would have hoped. She replaced the shower head so that it sprayed down on both of them from its cradle. Their clothes became saturated with water, but Lucretia didn’t mind.

She continued dressing Lup’s wounds while Lup faded in and out. Their IPRE jackets grew heavy with water and restricted Lucretia’s already difficult movement, so she peeled both off. They needed to be mended anyway.

Lucretia found herself short of breath, darkness creeping in on the edge of her vision. She shook it off, but took a moment to sit back against the wall next to her friend and just breathe. The hot water felt nice on her bruised and torn skin.

Lucretia’s short rest came to a halt when she heard Lup’s breath hitch.

“Lup? Are you—”

A sob racked through Lup’s body, cutting Lucretia off.

“Lup—it’s alright,” Lucretia’s throat grew tight. “I’m so sorry.”

Lucretia and Lup had grown fairly close, being the only ladies on the ship. It was not the first time they had to help each other with something like this, and would not be the last. Still, Lucretia tended to be withdrawn from the others to keep her journals—and in early cycles Lup would not leave Taako’s side, though now she seemed to be incredibly close to Barry as well. However, all seven of the crew loved each other deeply. They were a family.

“I’m so sorry, Lup” Lucretia repeated, taking her friend in her arms. She didn’t realize, but she had begun to cry too.

\--

The sound of the girls’ cries carried through the hall, and Davenport’s heart twinged with sympathy in his chest.

He took a deep breath and let it out, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Three crewmen down, and the captain had not been there for the last mission.

They did their best, nowadays, to always keep one crewman on the ship in case they had to leave in a hurry. There was still over one month left to this cycle, but it was a dangerous plane in the midst of a terrible war—they worried an army might find the ship and take it, so Davenport stayed behind to shield it with his illusion magic.

He stayed behind, and now Barry was dead. His family hurt.

He glanced towards the other hall, which housed Magnus’s room. He grabbed a basin and a cloth and filled it with water, then walked towards the room.

“Magnus?” He asked, knocking on the door. “Can I come in?”

“...Yeah.”

Davenport opened the door and stepped in to find Magnus sitting on the floor, bandages and wound care supplies strewn around him although it was clear he had made no attempt to use them.

His eyes were red and puffy, his skin flush. They could hear the girls’ soft cries from here—though the sound was muffled and distant.

Magnus swallowed and said, “I...I failed.”

“No,” Davenport replied instantaneously. He bent down slightly, not needing to kneel because of their height difference. “Don’t think like that.”

“I couldn’t protect them,” Magnus explained, motioning towards the general direction of Lup and Lucretia. “I couldn’t protect Barry—god, Dav, it was so bad.”

“It’s alright, Magnus,” Davenport said as he dipped the cloth into the water basin and wrung it out. “Really. We’re caught in these cycles—we’re gonna get hurt. You got Lup and Lucretia home, and you got yourself home. Barry will be back before you know it.”

Davenport began to scrub lightly at a gash on Magnus’s shoulder, while Magnus stared bitterly off to the side.

“You should worry a little less about everyone else,” the captain said. “And a little more about yourself. You’re hurt.”

“This plane sucks,” Magnus grumbled.

“Yeah,” Davenport sighed. “Not the best cycle. But hey. Let’s just be glad we still have four.”

They had only dropped down to three once—Davenport had not been there for it, but from what he’d heard it was nearly impossible. Things started getting really hard when they dropped down to five, and incredibly difficult when they dropped to four. When Davenport saw Lup, he was worried she wouldn’t make it without Merle’s Spare the Dying cantrip. Luckily for them, she pulled through.

“Anything broken?” Davenport asked.

“I think Lucretia broke her ankle,” Magnus mumbled.

Davenport hesitated before speaking, “Okay, I’ll handle her later but right now I was asking about you.”

“No.”

He looked Magnus up and down, wondering if his injuries really would heal on their own from resting. Davenport would have to keep an eye on him, since Magnus could be stubborn about his health and safety.

“Let’s get you into bed, Mags,” Davenport said. He wanted to offer him a hand or help him up, but Magnus was easily thrice his size.

“I—”

“Don’t argue,” Davenport said, using his rare I’m-Your-Captain voice. “Get into bed and get some rest before I _Levitate_ you into it and make you _Sleep_ myself.”

Begrudgingly, Magnus rose and made his way over to his bed, plopping face-down onto it. Davenport stepped over the clutter of bandages and ointments on the floor and placed a hand on Magnus’s head.

“We’re gonna get through this, buddy,” Davenport said, hushed. “I promise.”

With that, the captain left to get Magnus a glass of water.

—

Lucretia squeezed some shampoo into her hand and began to work it into Lup’s scalp, the suds washing away the remaining blood which tinted the water red as it ran down the drain.

Lup sniffled, but was grateful for Lucretia’s caring touch. She did not want to be alone right now. She thought with dread of how she would have plenty of time to be alone tonight—once Davenport, Magnus and Lucretia went to bed, without Barry to stay up late and keep her company.

Taako had been dead for months, making the nights not only dull but painfully quiet. She felt his absence most at night, and avoided looking in mirrors. Barry had made sure Lup wasn’t left alone with her thoughts for too long, though.

Lup heard Lucretia draw in a sharp breath, and she finally raised her head to check on her, eyes watery. Lucretia had a hand pressed hard against her ankle.

She saw Lup out of the corner of her eye, and drew her hand back.

“Sorry,” Lucretia said. “I just...moved it wrong.”

“Is it broken?” Lup asked, hoarse.

“Maybe just sprained,” Lucretia uttered. “But it’s fine, don’t worry about me.”

“You don’t need to do that, Lucretia.”

“Do what?”

“If you’re hurting, say so.”

Lucretia pressed her lips tight together, and reached for the conditioner.

“It doesn’t matter. Just another day at the office.”

“It does matter,” Lup urged with all the articulation she could muster. “You matter, Lucretia.”

Lucretia paused, worn down. She shook her head and worked the conditioner through Lup’s flaxen curls, then reached for a brush.

Lup watched her solemnly, but was still fighting for consciousness—she wanted to say more, to give Lucretia some encouragement, but she was drained. Plus, the image of Barry, broken and battered and very much dead, stuck in her mind like a knife in her heart. She couldn’t focus.

And Lucretia knew this. She thought about talking with Lup, really talking with her, unpacking what they just went through—but Lup’s eyes were dark and glassy, her eyelids half closed. Lucretia wanted nothing more than to take the pain away from her friends. There would be time to talk later, if needed, when Lup was rested.

She brushed the conditioner through Lup’s hair, the hot water getting less and less warm as the minutes passed.

When she finished, she turned the knob to turn the shower off. Steady drops continued to drip from the faucet. Lucretia took a deep breath, then stood up and limped to a closet. She pulled out some towels, and handed one to Lup.

Lup buried her face in it, while Lucretia threw hers over her shoulders.

“Alright,” Lucretia breathed. “Can’t be dripping through the halls—one second.”

Lucretia closed her eyes.

“Hey—hang on,” Lup said, concerned. “Do you have enough energy? You don’t have to.”

Lucretia nodded. Cantrips still took energy, though they did not cost any spell slots, and it wasn’t always smart to use them when in poor condition.

“ _Prestidigitation_ ,” Lucretia murmured. With that, the water in their clothes began to evaporate—sent off to some unknown plane. She had to cast it a few times, growing fatigued with each one, and didn’t quite get them completely dry.

“That’s enough, Lucretia,” Lup warned. “Don’t overdo it.”

Lucretia held her hands out, and Lup took them. She helped her to her feet, and weaved an arm around Lup’s back to support her.

“You really need to trance,” Lucretia said. “Let’s get you to bed.”

She guided Lup back to her room and onto her bed. As they passed through the hall, Lucretia noted that she didn’t hear the guys at all. She hoped they weren’t being too hard on themselves—but knew they were. Of course they were.

Lup looked up at Lucretia, too out of it to convey any sense of emotion. “Thanks,” she said.

Lup laid back, and Lucretia took her leave.

She got back to her own room and leaned against the door frame, looking back and forth between her bed and her desk full of journals and quills.

She was exhausted, and in pain, but could she possibly sleep right now?

No. She had to write. To try and make sense of what just happened. She could already feel some of the details of the day slipping away from her.

She sat down at her desk and dipped a quill into some black ink, flipping to the proper page in her journal.

She wrote slowly, her handwriting unclear. She couldn’t get the words on the page fast enough. Her hands would not let her. Darkness edged over her vision again. She fought it. She had to write. It was all she could do. She couldn’t protect her family, she couldn’t take their pain away—but she could document it. So maybe one day they could try to make sense of it all.

But now the words were just not coming—she couldn’t do her _one_ job. She felt something catch in her throat. She held back her tears, she kept moving her pen as she tried not to slip away.

_Keep writing, keep writing, keep..._

“Come on, Lucretia. You know better.”

She opened her eyes, unaware that she’d closed them. With an effort she lifted her head from her desk and saw Davenport, his hand reaching up to rest on her elbow.

She pushed her chair back and rubbed her eyes.

“Captain...I...I was just—”

“Pushing yourself when you don’t have to,” Davenport finished. “Bed. Now.”

“...I’m sorry.”

“Can you walk?”

“Yes,” Lucretia answered. She stood up a little too fast, and the room spun.

“Easy,” Davenport warned. “Take it slow.”

She made her way to her bed, limping, and sat down.

Davenport knelt down and pulled out a jar of ointment, placing it on the floor. He then began to tug off Lucretia’s boot.

“You—you don’t need to do that, Davenport, I’m really—“

“You’re worse than Magnus is what you are,” Davenport jibed. “We have plenty. This won’t heal until the reset if you don’t do anything for it.”

“But—”

Davenport shot a warning look at her and applied the cream to her ankle. She felt the magical energy bubble around her, with near instant relief.

He closed the bottle and stood up.

“I’m gonna come back in an hour, and you better be sleeping. That’s an order.”

Lucretia lifted an eyebrow. She couldn’t remember the last time Capn’port actually gave an order. It had probably been over a decade.

She half smiled. “Ay, Captain.”

He nodded and left the room, flicking the light switch on his way out. As he exited Lucretia noticed a glass of water and a piece of fruit that had not been there before.

She took off her other shoe, laid down, and closed her eyes.

There would be time to write tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment, come say hi at glow-worm.tumblr.com !


End file.
